Electric feel
by Mirae-no-sekai
Summary: -She's gonna teach me how to feel- Or even, more like an abuse of caffeine and jolts of yellow. AU from the deepest recesses of crazy/casualty, so hope you enjoy!


_A.N. – Kiryn, this one's for you. Inane plot bunny and all based on the chat ;) Should probably say something else, but I don't know what- really, this came out from nowhere and buzzed around for quite a long time._

_On other notes, the characters may as well be OoC beyond belief, they don't belong to me… and, since this would only work in an AU, there it is set. If you see my mind, tell it that it is sorely missed and required._

_So cheers and thanks for reading!_

* * *

She doesn't let him catch a breath.

Right now, Larxene is caught mid-tirade- from his point of view, she hasn't taken a breath in a long time either. Or stopped her ranting, for that matter. With a smile and veiled curses, Larxene has probably gone ahead and slandered half the company. Threatened the other half while pretending to lean against his right arm and punctuating every single accusation with a giggle and a wink.

"Why, Lexaeus, you haven't even argued back. Has our superior made such a sycophant out of you?"

"Keeps my bills paid- yours too."

"Oh, I've been going undercover here for ages. And it's not like there'd be a better place for me."

At this, Lexaeus looks down at her, twisting and craning his neck to see the blonde perched on the coffee stand twiddling a spoon.

"No other place with the targets placed at just the right distance."

The spoon falls neatly into his shirt pocket. And Lexaeus only rolls his eyes, silently criticizing the poor shot.

* * *

As always, he drags her back to the office. Or, to be as accurate as he prefers, he picks up Larxene's cup as a hostage and walks back to his desk.

The hissing is quite loud, the rhythmic clicking of her heels more so. Soon enough, Lexaeus sees the blonde catch up to him and begin demanding for her energy _right back, now or there'll be-_

He sets the cup back down on her desk and continues walking over to his, pausing only to shuffle around the stack of memos on his desk.

Work, work, more work. A meeting at five on Madison, a particularly detailed bit of accounting due for tomorrow, more mindlessly written notes of duties.

And the yellow-post-it-paper airplane, filled all over with neat rows of handwriting.

_You owe me one._

Further away on the open-floor office, Larxene smirks and keeps typing on, humming for greater effect.

* * *

"You do know it doesn't make sense?"

"What, sending Larxene along with you for the marketing?"

The mildly exasperated glare from Zexion is somewhat laughable, but he doesn't indulge in that. Then the younger man flips back to the sheets of data he holds and gives them the umpteenth once over.

"No, despite appearances she is quite convincing."

"As we all know."

"As you know from personal experience, certainly. I recall management still reels from her last foray there."

"She has gone to heckle them over the low coffee budget again."

He means it more as a fact, despite the slow inclination of tone and the wandering gaze.

"Not yet. But that is not what I mean. Now I must attend the meeting, or Larxene is likely to rage loudly enough to scare the customers away."

"Tell her I kept you."

"And that'll fix what, exactly?"

* * *

"Next time you keep my partner in business occupied, I'll make it a point to make you rue the day you did."

"And I'll remind you that I don't drink during office hours, my cabinets are locked and I use the public transport to work."

"Oh, those are for minor nuisances. You, on the other hand…"

Lexaeus flicks her hand away and turns back to the computer screen a little too evidently. Only to see her smirking reflection on the slick black screen and the cable dangling from her hand.

"_You_ might require something more _special_."

* * *

Now, Larxene knows Lexaeus isn't prone to gossip, or even stare for long at any one person.

But he's been looking at her lounge next to the coffee stand for the whole of the five minutes she's been there. Of course, through some printed spreadsheets that she knows are just for show and every so often highlighting a little bit where, if she strains hard enough, she can see a correct number.

"Hey, Marluxia?"

It's a stage whisper. It's Larxene looking pointedly and regally at Lexaeus for _one, two, three_ before switching the benefit of her gaze towards her more amiable co-worker.

"You wouldn't happen to mind having me out for dinner, would you?"

The feral grin makes it more of a set-out plan instead of a request. And she knows that Marluxia, of all people, isn't one to be usually amazed by such tactics.

But he's her partner in crime, and she relishes in the soft motions of a nod from him.

* * *

From the corner of his eye- not the center, mind you, as Lexaeus is too concerned with his business and not with taking a dallying lady out for dinner- he watches the slender man pass a note with a place and a time.

Sees Larxene wave girlishly at him, like they were parting seriously instead of just across the room, lean just a little towards him-

And messes up the correction on the spreadsheet.

"Lexaeus, we were asked to e-mail those due-"

"To time constraints. Duly noted."

He feels more than sees Zexion craning his neck to catch the last instants of Larxene returning to her post with a full cup of coffee and a swagger in her step.

"…"

It isn't the silence that makes Lexaeus turn to face his companion- it is the sudden frenzied typing even for Zexion's standards.

"Before you finish drifting off, I've made that be due for later."

"There is no need."

"But there _will_ be."

At this, he rolls his eyes and returns to his work. Zexion joking around… and he is the one to claim he is zoning off-

Not two seconds later, he sees another electric-yellow paper airplane land square in the middle of the spreadsheet.

_You owe me two._

_P.S. - aww, having a rare lapse in productivity? Must be coming down with something…_

* * *

The next day, he finds his desk cluttered with get well soon cards and little vitamin pills, a paper plane crowning its pile of cargo.

_Get well soon- I still need someone to invite me for coffee._

He knows just how she'll glare and pout at him. How she'll posture at just the right angle to be caught in the screen's reflection and how she'll stalk off swaggering as if that had been the plan all along.

* * *

Larxene hears the self-important ping of the e-mail server too long before she cares for it.

Then she sees the sender and is slightly amused that Lexaeus would deign to respond. Wait, deign she thought? He should've answered long ago to her.

_I don't pay for your coffee._

Short, succinct, entirely too dull.

_You do accompany me._

Beat. The trouble with Larxene's semi-permanent sarcasm is that it doesn't carry over very well in written form.

Bothersome, but if she has to do so…

_You need to liven up. My treat._

The things she does. Sometimes, she even amazes herself with this.

* * *

In an overly dainty manner, Larxene sets a full cup of steaming black coffee in front of Lexaeus. Motions for him to sip it before perching herself on the uncomfortable counter surface.

"It's going to get cold and believe me, it loses the point."

"Drinking coffee has no important effects whatsoever apart from inducing an addiction and dazed hyperactivity."

"Making you speak for a long while is a plus. Don't think I've heard that much from you outside from meetings. Now stop stalling and drink up."

"Thanks, but no."

"It is sorely offensive to refuse a lady. More so when she paid."

Larxene wafts the cup in front of his nose, face caught between a pout and a glare.

Again, Lexaeus has to refrain from laughing. Only this time, there is a small falter and a _hmph_ that doesn't completely come off as disregarding.

Now a smirk, spreading fast like caffeine on Larxene's face, precariously close to his own. There is a tang of bitter citric perfume muddling up the fumes from the drink and Lexaeus knows that for now he's caught.

This time, he glares at her. It was supposed to be disappointed, maybe even bored. From her expression, he thinks that Larxene thinks it is funny and she will never dare restrain the giggles.

_(How does he even know this remains something to be mulled over at a later time)._

He takes one grudging sip of the coffee, draining a quarter of the (was it really that small) cup with ease.

"See, it wasn't so hard to get you poisoned."

If she expects a reaction, she is not getting one. An exceedingly bitter liquid, to be sure. Nonetheless, awkwardly pleasant.

"Now, you wouldn't be averse to-?"

"The answer is no, Larxene."

"You desperately need to liven up."

"And you need to buckle down."

"Then try to earth me."

* * *

Larxene maybe didn't absolutely mean to challenge Lexaeus. Rile him up? _Certainly._ A slim possibility of getting back at… it probably was Marluxia… that was accounted for as well.

But if it suddenly meant a regular, stoic greeting every day with a side of getting invited somewhere, she wouldn't argue back.

And anyways, she always was one for energy and chaos.

* * *

Lexaeus slowly began to find himself drifting over to the coffee stand with alarming regularity. Once at midmorning, once at midafternoon- both times, one cup with no additives for him. Then there'd be a wave from far away and a glimpse of startling yellow. Sometimes, there'd be a muttered curse. A reference at a budding case of addiction. A long, hollered _please-_ although the last usually happened when most of the others were out of earshot.

Then, once every five times, he'd pick up another cup for Larxene.

Leave it at _his_ desk.

Then watch her annoyed strutting all the way to his fastidiously far away desk, blow a mocking kiss at his cheek and drain the cup while leaning on his shoulder or ruffling his hair.

"Hmm, I might _yet_ make something of you."

At this, he doesn't answer.

But once in a while, he'll not try to shrug her off.

* * *

"Larxene, you have been quite interested in Lexaeus as of late."

"More like I'm interested in the way he keeps paying for my little vices. And why is this _your_ beeswax Marluxia dear?"

"Oh, no reason. Just in it to watch him and Zexion squabble a bit- quite amusing, really, to watch the loyal drones discuss their duties."

"Or transgressions thereof. Will you be a gentleman-?"

"I will not be so uncouth as to steal someone else's price… for now, at least. So at another time."

A flustered look- more annoyed than anything, but it still is quite the delectable expression on Larxene's face. Then the eyes narrow and the lips purse and for a millisecond she is quite feline before she retorts.

"And what would you mean by that?"

* * *

"It is quite the spectacle you've been mounting."

"I have been doing no such thing, Zexion."

The younger man motions towards the cup brought from home and with a paper plane stranded inside instead of a beverage.

"Some- namely the owner of the post-it airline- would like to disagree."

"I never figured you were one for gossip."

"Never have been, but they keep landing on my work. Believe me, were it not for the misplaced correspondence I wouldn't care."

A gap of silence and keyboard keys struck leisurely.

"Or believe it."

At this, Lexaeus stays staring at Zexion's back reflected on the screen for an instant longer than necessary.

* * *

By _suspiciously_ mutual agreement, they don't speak much of the issue.

But Larxene finds herself carefully timing her own laps for energy, seeking to avoid her larger co-worker.

And he? He is a pain to avoid- only when her focus has become making the rumors unfounded does she find the little nuances in common.

The same penchant for sitting near the corridor instead of the dizzying windows.

Roughly coordinated needs for a freaking drink and being forced into retreating to her desk without her divine nectar on more than one occasion because he beat her there.

Having him always in line of sight, because his desk is somewhat stuck between her and most of her usual destinations and anyways, he is the size (but not the shape) of a mountain. As unmovable as well, but Larxene reckons she can overcome anything.

Lexaeus will divert his gaze from the post-its stacks with surprising subtlety and wince a little at he shade of the yellow highlighting.

(For a computer color, it is quite lifelike. Maybe even the other way around.

So that is why the paper planes are always that color, he theoretizes.)

* * *

"You know, if they're going to speak anyways, might as well."

"If you make a coherent point, Larxene, I'll be able to decide on a course of action."

"So you haven't heard? Pity, to have the researchers always stuck…"

His mechanical lack of reactions bothers her. Oddly_ less_ than usual- Larxene's figured out it's him being not reserved, but rather succinct.

At least she has gathered some response. His eyebrows have quirked and Lexaeus has taken too long to press the button for his choice.

_His_ choice.

She shouldn't have known that- although, then again, it's the same as hers. Little humongous puppy at her beck and call- she'd grin. She really would, but...

"You _need_ to liven up."

Larxene reaches out towards a silver spoon-

And finds Lexaeus offering one without even looking. Waiting for her to pick it up even, when he should've already departed to his station and resumed the work on the spreadsheet.

Ah, she'll make him stall. Not like it's lacking much anyways.

She shouldn't have known. But then again, it's him.

"Thanks."

A moment of watching their upside-down reflection, then flicking it up in an arc Larxene can perfectly imagine.

"Nice aim."

"About time you noticed."

* * *

It isn't much, but Zexion notices.

There is a bit of disorder on Lexaeus's desk, the screen-saver isn't the mountaintop photograph from their last trip, the paper planes have their own hangar on top of the endless stream of memos.

"Taking your lady out for lunch?"

"Not today- I have paperwork to catch up on, she has a reunion."

A teasing show of being able to reorder the schedule- Zexion somehow got the idea that it would be in his interests to let Larxene get away with this.

Or not.

"If she comes hollering, I don't expect to be disturbed."

"Then you'll dodge rain."

"Possibly. What intrigues me is-"

_Zip_ and a soft landing across Zexion's papers. She never misses, and in any case the handwriting is undeniably hers.

_Move my meeting around so that I can get the mountain to liven up? (Please)_

"Pretend you can't."

Zexion rolls his eyes and passes on the little message before returning to his job.

"However did you get together."

He means it as a statement. And while there probably is a grammatically correct term suitable for the situation, _however_ seems more descriptive.

Or better to wordlessly phrase.


End file.
